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The Voyeur

At ten at night a fair lady releases her flowing hair
And opens her window to let in fresh air
Not knowing that a fairy has come in with the breeze
Who will describe all that he senses and sees
The fairy, hid behind a bucket of salts
Watches her as she exposes her faults
The chipped red paint on the nail of her toe
Revolts the poor fairy, but he refuses to go
For she starts to unzip her speckled blue top
And her two heaving breasts break out and drop
Never a more putrid sight did he see
Than nipples the size of mulberry trees
She then removes her lashes, her eyebrows, her lips
Then, yawning, into her bed she sleepily slips
The fairy, wanting to take a closer look at the doll
Flutters up to her ear and begins to crawl
He travels right into her big, waxy ear
And discovers great galaxies there
In her head she has worlds so vast and sublime
That make him forget the odiousness of her slime
She has novels and poetry stored to the roof of her skull
Mathematics, biology, and philosophy to the full
Great worlds vast with memories twinkle in the skies
To the present moment from when she was baptized
Her parents, her lovers, her trips to the zoo
With her tears and successes blissfully brew
The fairy, embarrassed, escapes through her nose
She sneezes and the wind gusts him through the meadows
The human form, the womanly form, though disgusting in sight
Holds secrets and wonders that can't be seen in daylight
Be a fairy, a pest, travel into the innards and find
If the breast is all you see, then you should better be blind


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